


The Highlander's Bride: Violets Remix

by puddingparamour



Category: The Highlander's Bride - Michele Sinclair
Genre: But i think im making it a little bit better, F/F, Gay, Goodreads sure had a lot to say in the comments, Grammarly is my beta, Im revisiting this in honor of my teacher, Is it bad? Yes, It's not like what im doing is going to make it WORSE, Listen ikik this novel may not be all that "good" or whatever but your honor i love it, Romance Novel, Self-Indulgent, Well boy oh boy do i have the fic for you, Who asked me why my non essay written works sounded so much like a romance novel, You ever think back when to you were ten and an avid reader of historical romance novels?, lavender marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingparamour/pseuds/puddingparamour
Summary: Rewritten version of The Highlander's Bride with wlw.
Relationships: Ceana/Laurel, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Kudos: 1





	The Highlander's Bride: Violets Remix

**Author's Note:**

> I started this three ish years ago so there might(hopefully) be an increase in quality after chapter three. But only maybe because I'm basically copy pasting but removing names and also changing things slightly. Don't worry you don't have to learn their names.

_"Are you ever going to get married?"_

  
It was a tiresome question that had been asked a few too many times the past few weeks since his younger brother had decided to marry. As it goes, everyone then assumed he would wish to wed as well. "You turn, Conor!" was repeated everywhere he turned. Metaphorically, of course.

  
Those who knew him knew better than to ask, and those who didn't eventually uttered that cursed question. 'When are you going to get married?' Nobody ever asked Ceana this, and she mocked him every time the topic was brought up.

  
By the time they had finally left the wedding to return home, he had probably angered quite a few with his reply of 'When I want to-never.'

  
"What say you, Conor? Are you ever going to woo for a wife?" came a grating imitation of the Scottish parents he had encountered in the past week. Quiet laughter came from the group of his siblings, all blue eyed and brown haired, with three grey eyed exceptions.

  
"He's going to clobber you one of these days, Craig."

  
"I hope he aims for the mouth," chimed in one of the younger brothers, happy to not be the current object of ridicule.

Conor ignored the banter of his younger siblings and led the small group to a nearby river to refresh their mounts. The obligatory trip was finally reaching its end. In a few days, he would finally be on McTiernay land again. Finally able to resume his duties as the official laird of his clan.

  
"See to the horses. We'll camp at the valley ahead."

  
The men nodded and began to tend to their mounts. One of his younger brothers whispered to his mount softly, grooming her coat to a shine. A gentle mare, that one.

  
Tonight's destination was several miles to the north, and it would be nightfall before they made camp. While the valley Conor had chosen had no source of water to alleviate the horses or the men, they understood his decision. No one wanted to sleep too near Douglass soil. Nobody liked the Douglass'. 

  
While only a small portion of Douglass land bordered the allied land on which they currently rode, it was certainly a strategic location. Sheltered on two sides by large cliffs, it left only two sides needed to be fortified and protected. It was a wonderful place to build a fortress, and that was exactly what a Douglass ancestor had done.

  
Conor thought on his brother's question as they continued towards the valley. His main attributes were his tall stature and dark hair, all shared by his older brothers and sister. The only thing keeping the ones who used to pursue him from his more charming siblings was his position as laird. His mother had oft called him her handsome young man, but he had gained many scars in the many skirmishes that followed her death. The only one who called him handsome anymore was Ceana, but he doubted her motivations, because she usually paired this with pinching his cheeks until he gave her what she wanted. Usually this included money or his food.

  
The years of what he considered false flattery had made him exceedingly critical of all except his own clan. He was no longer considered the most desirable bachelor. That title fell to others now. 

  
Marriage was little more than a contract, meant to be an alliance, carry on a bloodline, or share a workload. His skill with weapons and loyalty of his warriors gained him alliances plenty, and his brothers were happy to carry on the bloodline. He did not have the physical wants most men boasted of, and even if he did, he would not act on them.

  
His parents' marriage was a gem among dirt, built on trust, love, and support. As a younger person he had longed for something as such, but failed. After a series of disappointing people who barely knew him but wanted him anyway, those whom he had scared away anyway, or people he could not grow fond of in that way, he knew his parents' marriage to be a gift he would never be given.

  
As they reached the valley and began to make camp, Conor refocused his attentions from the past to the present and began to relax. The air was getting colder, and he was glad to be getting home. There were many things to be done, and only a few weeks before the snow came.

  
He watched his brothers build a fire pit as his sister directed them. Ceana, of similar stature and volume to him, barked out orders naturally. Her face, unlike his, was crossed with ever-deepening laugh lines. His face was marked only with signs of stress. Ceana boasted that she got all the want of female company from him in the womb, leaving him with only the want of actual company.

  
The group was small, made up of six of his seven siblings, and four of his best guards. Rarely did he allow his family to journey past McTiernay borders, but weddings required family attendance. Conor had reluctantly allowed the youngest of his brothers to attend, since the journey was on allied or neutral lands.

  
"I'll bet Colin is having a good time at the celebrations, being as much of a merrymaker as he is!" Craig cackled, poking Crevan in the side. His twin grimaced, and leaned over to steal a piece of Craig's food. Seventeen years of annoyances was held between them, and Craig was quick to tug the back of Crevan's hair.

  
"Colin is lucky. Deirdre is pretty," Clyde said with all the assurance of a twelve year old. Clyde was often teased by the others, saying it was too bad their mother ran out of good names starting with C when he came around. When Clyde was particularly upset with them, Ceana and Conor would remind that they were the only ones to get the grey McTiernay eyes, the rest having their mother's blue eyes.

  
"Think you'll ever get lucky with a name like Clyde?" Conan asked, smiling widely, ever so happy to help with the teasing of Clyde.

  
Clyde retaliated by kicking dirt onto his brother. Conan, seeking revenge, kicked dirt not only on Clyde, but Craig as well. It would have turned into a dust cloud if not for Cole, fourth eldest, has not intervened.

  
It was now Cole's responsibility to keep everyone from mishap now that Colin had married, as Ceana and Conor were too busy running the keep.

  
Colin tried to imitate Conor as he was on the training field, saying "Enough," in a firm voice.

  
Ceana moved to sit down away from the commotion, resting against one of the elm trees surrounding the camp. Conor followed, relieved that Cole had taken responsibility over the rambunctious crew before they tore up the newly built camp.

"Cole still needs to work on his tone if he wants to be a convincing leader." Ceana remarked absentmindedly, and Conor nodded.

  
Getting up from his momentary resting place, he dusted the sand off and went to speak with with guards about the night's watch.

  
Though on allied lands, they were still uncomfortably close to the Douglass border. Though he and Ceana would love a chance to battle the man who they held a grudge against, they would not love to do so while their younger brothers were within reach.

  
Ceana joined him in talking to the guard and securing the campsite. Only a few more days ride north and the endless defenses would lessen. They gave their orders and returned back just in time to hear Craig say his latest ridiculous piece of gossip.

  
"You won't believe what Hilda told me!" he crowed, piquing the interest of the siblings. Craig was a natural born gossip spreader.

  
"Who's Hilda?" Clyde asked, already sitting in Craig's side.  
"One of the lasses he was gossiping with at the party." Conan said, shushing Clyde.

  
"Anyway," stressed Craig, regaining everyone's attention, "Hilda told me that the MacInnes' granddaughter was coming up to live with him. And," he paused, building the tension, "That she's half English!"

  
Crevan stared at his brother for a few short moments, before scoffing. "So she's half a English. She's still a Scottish daughter."

  
"Maybe so, but she was raised many years in English ways, and her mother died young after marrying a noble. Already there were those in the party placing small bets on how long she would last."

  
"The English should stay in England," Cole spat, then went silent.

  
"Can the English actually ruin the land by walking on it?" Clyde asked, often hearing from the warriors that the English ruined everything they touched. His question almost went unanswered, except for a short shake of Ceana's head. Ceana often indulged Clyde's lesser moments of wisdom.

  
"Why would she go to live with her grandfather?" Conan asked, curious.

  
"Maybe she hated England." Craig spoke muffled through a mouthful of food.

  
"Don't you know that the English are too stupid to hate their own country? She probably just wanted to benefit from being a powerful laird's only relative. " Cole scoffed, returning to his silence.

  
"But why wouldn't she stay in England then, since her dad was nobility?" Conan asked, continuously baffled by anything outside of his scrolls and manuscripts.

  
Craig shrugged, then opened his mouth again to repeat another one of the new rumors he had heard. Before he could, he was cut off by Ceana.

  
"I remember her mother was prettier than golden thread, and smarter than a whip. Maybe she's the same. She was young when I saw her last, but so was I. Remember that time I got sent to the MacInnes keep because I accidentally set something on fire? I met her then."

  
"Ceana. You didn't set something on fire, you set _me_ on fire!" Conor interrupted, pouting, cutting the conversation short.  
Conor, ever baffled by when to act as their older brother and when to act as their laird, usually followed Ceana's lead when it came to things outside of the running of the keep. He was reminded near constantly about how important she was, but it kept him from feeling lonely. The two had encouraged Colin to act as the oldest brother when they became the lairds, and now that he was gone, the honor fell now to Cole. Cole, who upon their return to the keep, was leaving to join the guard of Laird Schellden, an ally holding lands west adjacent. Colin and Cole were the first to leave, but eventually his other brothers were supposed to make their own way, leaving only Ceana and Conor behind as the laird and the unmarried sister of the laird. The reminder bothered them both, already feeling slightly left behind. They knew their brothers would be fine, either joining them or leaving them, but emotions often overrule logic.

  
"Alright, everyone. Come stand near me." Ceana said, and Conor knew what was coming. "As we all know, Conor here gets a tic in his left eye when he feels intense emotions such as loneliness, and we all see what that means!"

  
Suddenly, he was tackled to the ground by six whole people. Conor was softly discussing all that needed to be done with Ceana when they returned, when Finn, the elite guard's commander, walked up to them. Grim faced and ready for battle, he spoke quietly as well to not arise Clyde from sleeping between them.

"Hamish heard movement in the trees, and is investigating now."

  
Just then, they heard Seamus utter a muted bellow from within the trees, startling Clyde awake and the rest to alert.  
They drew their weapons as they advanced to confront the attacker. As they neared the edge of the tree line, Loman and Hamish dragged an incredibly disheveled woman into the clearing.

  
Loman strode towards the pair with a strong grip on her arm. She was no longer struggling, but Loman was wary of her. Conor saw his grasp, then the scratches on Loman's face, and connected the dots.

  
"She knocked Seamus pretty hard on his head, then tried to get away when we went after her."

  
She winced when he tugged on her wrists again, clearly bothered by something. Ceana scrutinized her face, took in the fear and pain. Ceana never could resist a pretty face, unfortunately.

  
"Your name?" Conor asked, relaxing for a short moment.  
"Laurel Rose Cordell." She turned to Ceana to speak, and for a moment all she could take in was her large stature and shocking grey eyes. Ceana, much the same, hardly noticed the state she was in.

  
Ceana and Conor turned to each other to discuss what to do with her, eventually deciding on letting her go. Conor advanced towards Laurel, who didn't flinch. She knew he was technically her captor, but his stature and the way he carried himself reminded her of her grandfather, and surely someone who resembles him couldn't be all that bad.

  
Loman released her wrists at Conor's words, and she rubbed them lightly. Ceana took in the dirt and twigs ensnared in the falling waves of her hair, the structure of her face, the bruises. She smelled of lilacs and dirt. The pearl handled dirk trembled in her grasp, and Ceana held out her hand to take it. Conor made a move to go within arm's reach, and she flinched, despite the resemblance to her grandfather. He took three steps back, and glanced at Ceana on what to do.

  
Laurel considered running for a moment, but the throbbing in her ribs told her otherwise. The defined muscles of the woman in front of her were riddled with scars, as was the man's. The many battles they must have been in had marked them.  
Her dress had been torn in many places, revealing a white chemise, one a lady of English courts would wear. Her hair seemed to be a sunny yellow color, but with the grime it was hard to tell. Her nose was rounded at the tip, and had an area where it was clear it had been broken at least once before. Her face was covered it either dirt or blood, the lighting making it hard to tell.

  
Hamish brought her a rag, and she accepted it even as she stepped back.

  
"Our men did not do this." Ceana said as fact, and Laurel nodded in confirmation. Conor was handed the wet rag once she was done. Her face was revealed to be of Scottish nobility, strong in feature and so on, while her hands were callused in some places. Likely from training with a stringed instrument.

  
A rustle in the woods startled her, and she snatched the dirk back from Ceana's hands. As Seamus emerged from the woods, she relaxed, then stiffened once more. Laurel's shoulders rose and she bared her teeth.

  
"I did not commit a crime. I thought he was meant to capture me, but it looks like I was not mistaken."

  
Ceana smiled slightly at the snarled words, which made it clear she was running from someone, not something.

  
"You are safe here, no harm should come to you," Conor said, motioning for his brothers to stay back.

  
"Are you running from a husband?" Ceana asked softly, gently taking the dirk back from her hands. If her answer were yes, it would make things complicated.

  
Laurel shuddered with the memory of how close it had been to her having to answer yes, and practically shouted out her answer. "No, I am not married."

  
"I am Ceana, and this lump is Conor," she said, looking relieved.

  
Suddenly, everything within her seemed to crash, and she just wanted to collapse for a minute. Everything seemed to be too much. It hurt to even breath, and she was so tired.

She knew she wasn't safe, no matter what the two said, and she needed a quick way to get as far as possible from here.  
She looked around at the group of people, who were obviously siblings, and then at the strong and safe looking Ceana. Her gut told her to take them for their word, if only she could get them to promise her something.

  
"Please take me with you, if only for a little while. Once I am far enough away, leave me somewhere, please. My grandfather, he..." Her knees grew weaker, and her legs began to tremble. Ceana dropped the dirk and grasped her arms just as her legs gave out, easily pulling her forward into an easier position to carry her.

  
The rest were momentarily stunned, as it was not everyday someone hit your guard into submission then collapsed into the arms of the laird's sister.

  
Ceana was trailed by Conor, who had picked up the dirk, true to his magpie tendencies. Laying her down onto her own bedding, she had Conor lay the dirk in reach and whispered a promise of protection into her ear.

Conor sighed. Ceana was clearly already at least slightly infatuated with the escaped woman.


End file.
